


Temporary Shelter

by melancholyMisfit



Series: Temporary Shelter [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Homelessness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholyMisfit/pseuds/melancholyMisfit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufioh stumbles upon an attractive mute boy who happens to be homeless and in need of a place to stay the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temporary Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is only the first part of this fic. It has been a ridiculously long time since I took on this gift request thing and it's taking me so long to finish it. Plus I have two others I have to work on along side this one. So I figured I'd go ahead and post the first part! This isn't even half of the whole thing but it was the best place to stop for a "part one". I will get the second part out asap so please enjoy this little teaser until then! Thank you for your patients, you're amazing ;v;
> 
> This fic is for Little-Lost-Highblood on tumblr!

You check the time on your phone and curse at yourself for allowing Damara to keep you out so late. You have work in the morning and you just know you’ll sleep through all of your alarm clocks, have to skip breakfast to get there somewhat on time and end up getting a lecture for being late. You’ll probably be pretty tired while dealing with customers as well making for a very bad day. You shiver, pull your jacket closer to you and wish that you’d replaced the broken zipper before it got this cold out. You’d chosen not to drink anything tonight as you never do when you have work the following day so at least you only have to walk the half block to the waiting warm cab of your truck.

The street is mostly empty, a few people stumble out of the doors of bars and huddle as they walk in the opposite direction. You’re distracted. You usually keep to yourself and ignore everyone else around you unless it’s someone you know, so you almost don’t see him leaning against the bus stop across from your car. His head is turned down toward his feet, his hood pulled up over his head, the cord of headphones dangling from his ears to his pocket. You would have walked right past him if some guy coming out of a bar hadn’t crashed right into him. He wobbled but stayed standing. The guy slurred an apology while the girl next to him erupted into inappropriate giggles. He didn’t look up, he merely shifted his weight back against the bus stop like nothing had happened.

You find you’ve unlocked your door and opened it but you’re still standing in the street staring at him. There isn’t really any reason to be curious about him but you still try to make yourself look distracted while you stare at him. As you stare, feeling extremely creepy and stalker-like, he finally lifts his head and glances down the street. That’s when it occurs to you that he’s waiting for a bus. At two in the morning. The busses around here stopped running hours ago. It’s cold out and he’s not wearing more than a hoodie that looks thin and worn and has a few holes in it you can see even from across the street. You typically don’t approach strangers on the street but you start to feel bad for him.

Closing the truck door, you slowly cross, making sure he sees you before you get too close. You wave your hand a little and he pulls the buds out of his ears, nodding his head in response.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you but are you waiting for the bus?” You ask like an idiot.

He nods his head and points to the sign above his head because duh what else would he be doing leaning against a bus stop in the freezing cold?

“Right well, the busses stopped running around ten and won’t start until around six.”

He looks down at the street for a minute before nodding his head again.

“It’s kind of cold to be standing out here for four hours, don’t you think?

He nods for a third time following with a shrug. You battle with yourself for a few seconds before blurting out the words your brain is saying you probably shouldn’t have said.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” He raises his eyebrows, looking overall shocked. “I mean, it’s late and cold. If you’re willing to wait until 6am for a bus where you’re going must be pretty important. I can drop you off if you want.” He just stares at you and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “Do you want to tell me where you need to go?”

He finally looks away and sighs, pushing off from the bus stop. When he meets your eyes again he raises his hands to his face and makes an X with his fingers over his mouth. Oh. You’d thought he was just shy. It never occurred to you that he couldn’t speak.

“Oh um, do you sign? I mean, I know a little bit because a friend of mine is deaf so it might…help.” You clear your throat and stop yourself from rambling when he smiles. It’s just a little smile but it’s enough to make you forget how to use your mouth. You’ve always found smiles attractive and his is definitely one to stun you into silence.

He moved his hands and you try your hardest to follow along. Usually when you’re speaking with Meulin there’s a third person there to translate for you. There’s a large possibility that you’re going not going to understand more than half of what he says.

_“A ride would be nice.”_ He signed.

“Yea, sure. I’m Rufioh.” He spells out Kurloz with his hands.

Kurloz grabs the backpack off the ground by his feet and follows you to your truck. You climb into the driver’s seat and stare at the steering wheel. You’ve just invited a stranger off the street into your car. For all you know there’s a gun or a knife if that bag and you’re about to be kidnapped. You jump when he closes the passenger side door and you watch as he fastens his seat belt. You tell yourself to calm down, put on your seatbelt and just drive him wherever he wants to go. You start up the truck, crank up the heat and pull away from the curb.

It’s quiet. You don’t know what to say and he certainly isn’t going to be starting a conversation. You brake at a stop sign and glance at him.

“So um, where am I taking you?” You ask, feeling foolish for not getting an answer before you started driving.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a notebook and a pen. There’s no other cars around so you stay at the stop sign while he scribbles out a response. He doesn’t look at you when he hands over the notebook.

_“I’m sorry. I don’t really have anywhere to go. I ride the motherfucking bus during the day because there’s nowhere else for me to go. I just wanted to get out of the cold and I took advantage of your kindness. I’ll just get out here. I’m sorry.”_

You set the notebook down on the bench seat between you and stare out the windshield at the street ahead. You don’t know what to say. You should probably be annoyed that he didn’t tell you the truth before getting into the car but it’s not like he took you out of your way. When it comes down to it you feel bad for Kurloz. You can’t imagine what it would be like to not have a home to return to. Especially in winter. It hasn’t snowed yet but it will. The forecast in the morning said it could snow as early as the weekend. Suddenly all you can picture is Kurloz leaning against the bus stop in a snow storm, shivering, lips blue, fingers numb, and every other person walking past like they don’t see him.

Part of your brain is screaming “you don’t know him! He could be lying, taking advantage of you so he can get you alone and kill you!” While the other part is whispering “but what if he really needs help? You can’t just leave him on the off chance that he’s lying.” There’s always the option of taking him to a warming shelter but those are probably crowded and he can’t speak. Dammit Rufioh, this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.

“Do you maybe want to stay at my place for the night? My couch is a little old but still comfortable and I have tons of extra blankets. It’s not ideal but it’s warm.”

He doesn’t grab for the notebook or lift his hands to sign. He just stares down at his lap and fiddles with his headphones.

“Sorry, that was a stupid question right? I mean, you just met me on the street. I thought it was pretty stupid to ask but I didn’t even consider how stupid it would be for you to come home with me. I can just take you to a warming center if you want. I’m not completely sure where one is but I can look it up on my phone.”

Ok, maybe you’re rambling. You feel stupid and awkward and it’s too quiet. Of course he can’t talk so that leaves it to you to make conversation and you’re obviously doing a great job with that. He finally picks up his notebook and starts writing. He appears to be writing a lot and for some reason that makes you anxious. He doesn’t look at you when he hands it back.

_“Are you always this nice to strangers? Or am I just that motherfucking pathetic?”_

“What? No, you’re not pathetic! I just know that if I were in your place I’d want someone to help me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

He takes back the notebook and scribbles something down quickly before handing it right back.

_“If I go with you, do you promise not to kill me in my sleep? :o)”_

“Only if you promise the same.”

He smiles and nods. Finally you start driving again. It’s not a long drive to your place and by the time you get there you’ve managed to calm yourself down a little. He grabs his bag and follows you out of the truck, into the building, up the stairs and down the hall. You catch him looking around out of your peripheral. He seems nervous though you can’t really blame him. Sure you’d promised not to murder him but how is he supposed to know you weren’t lying? You unlock the door and hold it open for him to walk through. It’s not much. Just what you could afford on your own. The living room is the biggest part of the apartment with a couch, a loveseat and a TV. The kitchen is rather small, just big enough for you but sometimes the fridge door swipes the wall if you try to open it too wide.

“You can eat anything you find in the kitchen. There’s pop and beer in the fridge. The bathroom is in the corner, towels in the cupboard if you want to shower. I’ll bring you a pillow and some blankets for the couch so just make yourself comfortable.”

He nods and you head to the bedroom. Once you’re out of his sight you pull your phone from your pocket and send a quick text to Meulin.

_hey doll, 1 d1d someth1ng stup1d… 1 1nv1ted a guy 1 just met back to my apartment to stay the n1ght… 1f 1’m found dead 1n the morn1ng h1s name 1s kurloz… 1 d1dn’t get a last name… that was probably an 1mportant th1ng to get… sh*t_

You toss your phone on the bed and retrieve your extra pillow and three blankets from the closet. You keep them around for when your brother comes to visit. Good thing because they’re definitely coming in handy tonight. When you come back out into the living room he’s looking through your movie collection and sipping on a can of sprite. You toss the blankets on the couch and clear your throat. He glances at you and smiles.

“It’s pretty cold so I brought three blankets. If it’s not warm enough let me know and I’ll get you some more. Feel free to watch any of those just don’t turn the volume up too loud or the neighbors will complain.” You rack your brain for anything that you may have missed but you aren’t used to having guests like this. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shakes his head, puts down the can of pop and signs _“thank you”_.

“Yea, sure. Don’t mention it. I have work in the morning so I’m going to bed now. Just use whatever you need and don’t worry about it.”

_“Good night.”_ He signs and smiles and damn is it a cute smile. His hair might be in need of a good wash, and he might look tired and run down but you think he’s good looking. His eyes are pretty but you’re sure he’s wearing contacts. It’s not possible for someone to have purple eyes, right? He’s got long, dark eyelashes that make him look like he’s wearing eye makeup. Unless he actually is. Which is cool too.

You’ve officially been staring at him for an awkward amount of time so you quickly excuse yourself and just about run to the bedroom. After you change into pajamas you open the door just a bit and peek out at the living room. He’s sitting on the couch with one of the blankets around his shoulders watching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. You leave your door ajar as a way of saying “come in if you need me” and cross the room to your bed. It feels a little odd having someone else in the apartment but you’re not 100% sure why. It’s never weird when your brother is here. Maybe it’s because it’s Kurloz. Maybe it’s because you barely know him.

You can barely hear the TV in the other room. The words and sounds run together so you can’t really make anything out. It’s all just a soft hum. It’s usually so quiet when you go to bed, you’re afraid you won’t be able to sleep. However, it’s only minutes before you’re fast asleep.


End file.
